Tuesday, 15 January 2013


This blogging caper is a bit baffling. The idea was to write a post every week but somehow the time has flown by and I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date. There are a million, very sound (yea, I bet), reasons why the deadline passed me by but I won’t bore you with them (mainly because I wouldn't get away with trying to give a million reasons). Honestly, the main reason is I keep waiting for something out of the ordinary to happen that would get my creative writing juices flowing; that I could dazzle my reader(s) with; that would be satisfying to write.

I travelled half way around Australia in 2004-2005 and wrote an email journal to family and friends, a pre-blog if you like. It was easy to write about each new place, people, activity and experience. I kind of thought blogging would be the same. After lurking about on other blogs and discovering that personal bloggers talk about their daily lives, thoughts and insights I reckoned I could do the same. Those bloggers make it look easy and fooled me into a false sense of security. Damn you, clever bloggers!

Trouble is I now lead a very ‘less ordinary’ life. What to do? It seems the best advice is from the good bloggers is to speak your truth and tell it like it is. But do you, dear reader(s), really want to know that my stomach and guts are in an uproar? That the recurrent vestibulitis (it interferes with balance and makes the room spin every time I move my head) I suffer from has returned to plague me? That I haven’t been out of the house for five days and only seen two people in that time? That I'm getting very bored with the dross on offer during summer time TV? No! I challenge anyone to get some blog worthy writing out of that lot. Except to say they are all fairly good reasons why I missed my blog deadline and have nothing interesting to write about. Excuses, excuses, Humph!

So, in the interests of waffle I shall post a picture of my dog’s extra long tongue in the hopes that you will be distracted from the detritus above and be convinced that I live a truly exotic life because I have an exotic (kind of) pet.

She is a Chihuahua licking a tea plate. She really 
gets her money's worth with that tongue.

You’re not fooled, I can tell, but just go with the flow and I'll see you in a week.*

*If I remember (or merember, as both my kids used to say, a hundred or so years ago when they were little). 

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